VOL 1. A collection of bizarre stories

Dock Ghost

The harbour was a fine place. A relaxing resort, unlike most resorts on the Southside coastal line. Nowadays, many cars packed in there and tourists loved to buy every little commodity.
     Getting Dobbs to talk became as hard as cracking a coconut. He was a ghost myth. People had thoughts of him, but it was nothing more than gross gossip, trying to scare off the tourists.
     Each season, a bunch of tourists flew in to the old resort, wishing to run into Dobbs, others, well, they had never heard of him. The locals knew better. This claimed to be their place, they liked the rocky cliffs and grandiose scenery it offered. The locals spent most of their time making fun of the tourists, and liked to spread gossip, and they spread it quickly, describing him as an invalid derelict, with the exception of his being able to perceive the future.
     They surmised the "adolescent" Dobbs developed faster than his friends, as he assisted boaters by the dock, gassing boats, doing whatever he could to accommodate guests. During the months when the place had a quiet air to it, (best around fall because everything had a new look to it), and people were trying to figure things out, Dobbs worked as an assistant innkeeper at the lodge as well, stationed up the hill.
     They said he had a sister. She and her friend made fun of him, even murdering him, and making it look like an accident. After his death, Dobbs ran into his sister and her friend at his funeral. The two laughed over his retardation. Now he was looking for his killers, a pick ax in hand.
     When the Morgans first visited the lodge in 1989, her father made the girls a great dinner. Then it was off to sleep for the girls, only to listen to the sound of dogs barking off in the distance. The barks were close, closer than they thought. When both looked outside, he was there. The gaunt man favored walking beneath a moonlit sky, passing a boathouse, before ascending the stone steps. This must be the innkeeper, they suspected. As he proceeded up the steps, Dobbs turned his face, and with a pick ax over his shoulder, he gave a grimacing stare, one that could make a person crap their pants. When he reached the top step, he stopped and looked at the girls. They claimed the figure was Dobbs, and it was.
     He returned one morning, whispering in a soft voice for Clair to come out.
     For a while, every Sunday at 2 the girls feared him glancing back, walking up the stairs, whispering his long dead sister Clair's name. "Clair, come out."
     The now-grown Kathy, one girl from the lodge, became a bartender and lives in New Hampshire. The other one moved back to Cape Cod to stay with her uncle. Kathy later took an interest in American football. The real reason was to try to forget what she and her friend had experienced.
     Despite the football, the drunks full of their intoxicating liquid, and so on, she kept seeing the innkeeper in her mind's eye. Kathy would later try to get customers to believe her story, what the two friends witnessed, but nobody really took her story seriously.